


Work With What You Got

by Jo (jmathieson)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Snowed In, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 13:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11082630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/pseuds/Jo
Summary: Clint's Valentine's Day plans get... adjusted.





	Work With What You Got

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phae/gifts).
  * Inspired by [when everything's wrong, you make it right](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1214935) by [phae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phae/pseuds/phae). 



Clint figured he should have known better than to try to make plans. He looked around desolately at the interior of the safe-house—it was more of a shack, and even that was being generous. He—he and Phil—were supposed to be at a fancy restaurant right now. Clint had made actual reservations and everything. There was even one of those ridiculous candy bouquets reserved in his name, because of Phil's sweet tooth. Maybe he could still pick it up from the shop when—make that if—they ever got back from this mission. 

The mission was supposed to have been a simple in-and-out… But first the intel had been out-of-date, which meant it took a week more than planned to accomplish their objective, and then the blizzard had hit. They could barely even get a radio signal through, so there was no chance of landing a chopper or Quinjet to extract them until storm blew itself out.

Clint peeled off his torn tac vest (the ten extra Hydra goons they had had to fight hadn't been in the intel either) and tossed it towards the single cot in the corner of the shack before collapsing onto the cot himself as well. It just wasn't fucking fair, Clint thought. He'd tried, he'd tried really hard, because it was their first Valentine's Day as a couple and Clint wanted to do something special. Because Phil was worth it. But now they were stuck in a shack in a blizzard in the middle of nowhere instead. 

The door banged open and Clint flinched for a second, still full of post-mission adrenaline, before realizing that, of course, it was just Phil. Stepping in and shaking the snow out of his hair and stamping it off his boots, and carrying an armload of firewood for the stove. 

Despite his foul mood, or maybe because of it, Clint was struck by just how damn sexy Phil Coulson looked in a SHIELD tac suit. It fit him perfectly, of course, and emphasized Phil's well-built shoulders that were usually hidden under his regular workday suits. 

Phil dropped the firewood by the stove, then glanced over at Clint. "Are you okay?" he asked with a worried frown, coming over to sit beside Clint on the cot. He put two fingers under Clint’s chin to turn his head, and examined a cut over his left eye where a bad guy had landed a lucky punch during the fight.

Phil's hand was warm on his face and Clint wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss him, but they had a very strict 'no fooling around AT ALL' during a mission rule. It was a good rule. Clint even agreed with it, usually, but right now he wished he could talk Phil into breaking it, just once. "I'm fine," Clint said, pulling his chin out of Phil's grip and staring down at the floor instead.

"What's wrong?" Phil asked, gentle, not sharp like he would if he were afraid Clint was hiding an injury.

Clint heaved a sigh and let his head hit the wall of the shack with a thump. "I had a plan. A good fucking plan. I was gonna take you out for Valentine's Day. I made restaurant reservations a whole month ago, and I was even gonna wear a suit and everything. I just…" Clint had to swallow around the lump in his throat before he could continue, which was stupid because he shouldn't be that upset over a ruined dinner date, but— "I wanted to do something nice, to, uh, show how happy I am that we're, uh, together." Clint's voice had dropped to a mumble by the time he finished his sentence.

Phil put his hand on Clint's arm and squeezed.

"I know," Clint said before Phil could say anything. "I shouldn't have made plans when we had a mission, but it was supposed to be over by now."

"I was going to say," Phil said, taking Clint's chin and turning his face again so that they were looking into each others' eyes, "that there are some cases where 'it's the thought that counts' is really true, and this is one of them. I'm very touched that you made the effort, and I'm sorry that your plans for our Valentine's Day got ruined."

Phil's words should have made Clint feel worse, but somehow they didn't. Somehow they made things (a little bit) better. "Well, at least we're together; that's something," Clint said. 

"It is." Phil nodded, then said, "How about you start the fire and get this place warmed up, and I'll see what there is for food."

"Yeah, good idea," Clint said, hauling himself up off the cot and crouching in front of the wood stove. "But I bet you're not going to find anything other than MREs."

Phil just hummed in reply, and Clint got busy with cleaning the old ashes out of the stove and then laying a new fire. Behind him, he heard the sounds of MRE wrappers tearing, and resigned himself to a Valentine's day meal of bland, mushy ravioli.

When the fire was finally blazing to his satisfaction, Clint stood up and stretched his back with a 'pop'. 

"Here, put this on to heat up." Phil handed him a battered enamel cowboy-style coffee pot which Clint took reflexively and positioned on a corner of the stove. 

"Uh, Phil. What are you doing?" Phil had stripped down to the thermal base layer that they were both wearing under their tac suits. Which was tight enough that it left nothing to the imagination. Absolutely nothing. Clint took in Phil's muscled back and tight ass that were on display as Phil hunched over the crate of supplies in the corner of the shack.

"Fixing us a snack. You should take your clothes off, they're wet." 

"Um, yeah. Okay." Clint stripped down to his long underwear and hung his gear up on the conveniently placed nails in the wall of the shack by the stove. Then he hung Phil's stuff up too. When he was done he turned around to find Phil ensconced in the corner of the cot, the lid of a storage box balanced across his knees. On the floor was a mess of torn-open MRE wrappers.

"Grab that blanket and come here," Phil said with a small, conspiratorial grin. "We can snuggle while we eat."

"Um, what about the 'no fooling around' rule?" Clint couldn't believe that had just come out of his mouth. He wanted to smack himself.

"It's cold and there's only one cot. Besides, we're still dressed."

Sure, if you counted skin tight polypropylene long johns as dressed, which Clint wasn't sure he did right now. But he followed Phil's instructions, grabbing two blankets and squeezing himself in next to Phil without jostling the tray too much. "What's all this?"

Phil had used every bowl, plate, mug, and empty coffee can he could find and filled it with treats that he had pillaged from over a dozen MRE packs. There was a plate of crackers and a coffee can full of packets of peanut butter, jam, and jelly. And another plate of cookies. There was a small bowl that held a mixture of M&Ms and Skittles, and another full of trail mix and corn nuts. In the middle of the makeshift tray, sitting on its wrapper and cut in half with a plastic knife, was a chocolate fudge brownie.

"I only found one brownie, so we can share it," Phil said with a smile.

Clint glanced over at the pile of discarded MRE components and torn wrappers. "Are you sure this is this okay? I mean, those supplies…" Clint trailed off, feeling silly.

"SHIELD can afford a new case of MREs. Or they can take it out of my paycheck." Phil put his arm around Clint and pulled him close, then tucked the blankets in around them both. "Here, eat your brownie," he said, picking it up and holding it invitingly in front of Clint's mouth.

Relaxing into Phil's arms and feeling a little cheeky, Clint leaned forward and took a big bite. Phil just chuckled and fed Clint the rest of the brownie, then licked his fingers.

The fire crackled, the blizzard raged, and Clint and Phil munched their way through the MRE snacks. Clint left the cashews in the trail mix for Phil, and Phil left the purple Skittles for Clint. 

Clint burrowed his face into the side of Phil's neck, figuring that that counted as 'snuggling'. "Happy Valentine's, Phil. I love you," he murmured.

Phil pressed a soft kiss to the top of Clint's head. "I love you. Happy Valentine's."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Desert-neon for beta reading!


End file.
